


Home for the Holidays

by iam93percentstardust



Series: Holiday Song Fics 2016 [18]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-11-07 19:32:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11065644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iam93percentstardust/pseuds/iam93percentstardust
Summary: After the events of Hell Bent (season 9), Clara wishes to go home for the holidays. Me reminds her that she can’t, not really, but Clara just wants to see her childhood home again.





	Home for the Holidays

“Clara, you know you can’t do this,” Me said quietly as Clara hesitated at the door to the TARDIS. Clara turned to face her, biting her lip. She looked conflicted. Me couldn’t blame her; this was one of the more dangerous things they’d done since starting their travels.

“But home for the holidays? Me, can’t you imagine?” Clara pleaded.

Me shook her head. “You can’t go inside. It’s been years. They think you’re dead- they buried your body.”

Clara sighed. “I know. Can’t we just stand outside the window though?” Me wavered. “Please? I won’t say anything to them. This will be the last time we ever come back to this time.”

She knew that Me was thinking of the time that they’d visited Coal Hill School ten years after Clara’s death only for Clara to terrify a group of children because she’d been standing right in front of her own memorial. She still argued that she couldn’t have possibly known that they would have a memorial still up for her- her and Danny both, actually. But Me didn’t care; her view was that being on Earth was too dangerous for them right now.

Sooner or later, the Time Lords would figure out that Clara Oswald was spending time on Earth.

“Alright,” Me said eventually. Clara started to open the door and she held up a hand to wait. “You have to promise me that you’ll just look and you’ll be silent. An observer only.”

“It’s like you don’t trust me,” Clara teased. Her smile faded as she realized how serious Me was. “Of course, Me. Just an observer.”

They stepped outside. Clara stopped to get her bearings. The area had changed a lot since she had last been here. Everywhere she turned, there were new shops and restaurants.

“When are we?” she asked Me.

“2021.”

“Oh,” she breathed. It had been five years since she’d died. Somehow, she’d thought that nothing would change but of course life went on. She spun slowly, trying to take everything in.

“This way,” she said confidently and set off down the street.

Everywhere she turned, there was something new to look at. It wasn’t the area where she’d grown up anymore. Clara suspected that her life would have been very different if she had grown up in this area. She missed the old grocers on that corner and the music store down that street. It wasn’t home anymore.

She sped up, anxious to get to her dad’s. There it was- her childhood home. She slid to a stop, boots losing traction on the slick ice. It too had changed. Her dad didn’t hang garlands from the railing anymore. The lights dangling from the roof were colored not white. And the snowman Clara had loved as a child no longer sat out front. She couldn’t stop herself from crying.

Me, always so bad with empathetic emotions, gently patted her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“I’m afraid to even look in the window,” Clara commented.

Me opened her mouth, paused, and then continued, “Would you like me to give them a message?”

Clara smiled sadly. “No,” she replied. “But I don’t think I want to be here any longer.”

Me nodded. “Come on, Clara. Let’s go home.”


End file.
